Ripper worked with a cleaver?
by Alice Stein
Summary: FAIL TITLE. just a little one shot I made in SAT when I was done with my science HW. There isn't really any mention of Stein, but the main character is his wife. I tried to make this so it would be set in the time of Jack the Ripper in UK. enjoy! r&r! :D
1. Cleaver

_She was __uncatchable__. No detective could find her, no one knew what she looked like, no one knew her true identity. Her true name was Alice Stein, the wife of the only (and cruel) doctor in their small town of Northam, Dr. Stein. No one ever suspected that __she__ was a murderer, considering that she was one of the sweetest ladies in town. People suspected her first born daughter, a girl whose name meant "blood." Jira. Jira was a bitter young woman towards her mother, always attempting and failing to murder her. The people of Northam only suspected Jira, not any of her other four siblings, one of whom was adopted. The other four children, Adelita, Alicio, Aixa, and Kosovo, were brilliant minds. Adelita was aspiring to be a nurse, like her mother, Alicio becoming a lawyer, and Aixa was where she felt proper- the home. Kosovo was too young, a maiden of thirteen, to decide what she desired to sculpt her life into. Our story begins on a Sunday, the time a gloomy dusk. Clutching her skirts and her knife to prepare to strike. Her victim? The man, she once loved, of Italian descent. Lorenzo Vargas was a man of many ladies, settling on one of her many sisters. His "dear" wife had died two years prior to their daughters were born. He pretended to grieve, giving his father- and mother-in-law his deepest apologies. As he received plenty from fair maidens, Alice was __infuriated__ with him. Taking the two girls into her home with love and tenderness, Alice plotted the man's murder. Slipping away, she kissed her husband good night and made sure no child was awake. Silently, gracefully, the woman slinked through the shadows, not a petticoat muddied by the damp street. Spotting the Italian, his arm sinfully around a young prostitute's waist, the armed woman approached with caution. She first knocked the prostitute out, alerting the man. He spun around, dropping the girl, and stared at the woman from his past. She smiled, not a sweet, "oh-how-do-you-do?" smile. A smile dripping with the poison of an adder. She raised the large knife, and with a sickeningly sweet giggle, she ended the man's life, hacking the body up to the point where identification was __impossible__. Grinning at the grotesquely mangled corpse, Alice slipped away from the crime scene._


	2. detailed version

She was uncatchable. Who? The mysterious woman people called The Cleaver Murderer. No detective could find her, no one knew what she looked like, no one knew her true identity. Her true name was Alice Stein, the wife of the only (and cruel) doctor in their small town of Northam, Dr. Stein. No one ever suspected that she, the lovable daughter of an equally lovable Spaniard and his wife, was a murderer, considering that she was one of the sweetest ladies in town. People suspected her first born daughter, a girl whose name meant "blood." Jira. Jira was a bitter young woman towards her mother, always attempting and failing to murder her. The people of Northam only suspected Jira in result of her foul behavior, not any of her other four siblings, one of whom was adopted. The other four children, Adelita, Alicio, Aixa, and Kosovo, were brilliant minds. Adelita was aspiring to be a nurse, like her mother, Alicio becoming a lawyer, and Aixa was where she felt proper- the home. Kosovo was too young, a maiden of thirteen, to decide what she desired to sculpt her life into. Our story begins on a Sunday, the time a gloomy dusk in eighteen-eighty-eight.. Clutching her skirts and her knife to prepare to strike, Alice watched vigilantly. Her victim? The man whom she once loved, of Italian descent. Lorenzo Vargas was a man of many ladies, settling on one of her many sisters. His "dear" wife, Camila was her name, had died of an unknown illness two years prior to their daughters were born. He pretended to grieve, giving his father- and mother-in-law his deepest apologies. As he received plenty of well wishes from fair maidens, Alice was infuriated with him for the endless flirting just after his wife died, leaving him with her two nieces. Taking the two girls into her home with love and tenderness, Alice plotted the man's murder. Slipping away, she kissed her dear husband good night and made sure no child was awake in the mansion. Silently, gracefully, the woman slinked through the shadows, not a petticoat muddied by the damp street. Spotting the Italian, his arm sinfully around a young prostitute's waist, the armed woman approached with caution. She first knocked the prostitute out, alerting the man. He spun around, dropping the girl, and stared, no, _gawked_ at the woman from his past. She smiled, not a sweet, "oh-how-do-you-do?" smile. A smile dripping with the poison of an adder. She raised the large knife, and with a sickeningly sweet giggle, she ended the man's life, hacking the body up to the point where identification was impossible. Grinning at the grotesquely mangled corpse, Alice slipped away from the crime scene. Her husband welcomed his blood-tainted wife with a kiss and a demonic smirk. With each step to their room, the woman slipped off a blood stained article of fabric until she was stripped bare. The next morning, when the corpse was found, Alice felt a splash of pride as she had the servants prepare breakfast for her family, and The Cleaver Murderer.


End file.
